RFL: Roomies For Life
by Unfunny
Summary: Ah, roommates. One of life's kicks in the face. A particularly painful kick at that. I'd had some strange roommates before, but Bad-Hairline-Hippie-Boy? That was entirely a new matter. RenjixOC Rating:15 plus, mostly for language/innuendo
1. Love At First Sight Pfft

Me: Hello! I've been posting at (which isn't working right now… frowny face) for some time now I've decided to… expand my horizons a bit.

Tum: Read: Whore your stories out for reviews.

Me: . On that lovely note, I present to you… Roomies For Life

Disclaimer: Did you know? I _don't _own Bleach!

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**Chapter 1 – Love At First Sight… Pfft**

Ah, roommates.

One of life's kicks in the face. A particularly painful kick at that.

You see, roommates, like minor STDs, are a very unfortunate but very real part of college life; most people will have to suffer through at least one.

Since graduating the local university, I've had to deal with four very painful ones.

Roommates, I mean. Not STDs.

As the fates would have it, even though I was no longer an undergraduate, I was still doomed to share my flat with whoever would help pay the rent. Until I reach the happy day when I will finally have achieved my doctorate, I'm stuck with a roommate.

My four previous roommates had been, well... interesting, to say the least.

The first, who, in retrospect, wasn't all that bad, was a rather large Croatian girl named Sonja. In fact apart from the permanent cold shoulder, the rather uncomfortable snores, and the constant scary-ass glares, we got along pretty darn well. Until, that is, early one morning when I accidentally walked in on her peeing.

She was standing up.

The next roommate, was an enthusiastic kid from New Zealand named Tommy. He was sweet and cheerful, but he always ate bacon. What's wrong with bacon, you ask? He's allergic to bacon.

Every weekday morning, Tommy would nearly shit himself, getting excited to eat bacon for breakfast. And while it was cooking, he would run around the small apartment screaming "BACON! BACON! B-A-C-O-N! BACOOOON!!!"

... every morning.

He would shovel disgusting amounts of pig fat into his mouth at an astound rate. When he finished, he would predictably turn a blotchy grey, then a pale green and run to the bathroom. Whereupon he would proceeded to hurl the entirety of his breakfast in my poor toilet.

... every morning

The third roommate didn't stay long enough for me to remember his name. He had only been living with me for a week when I kicked him out. It was bad enough that the American had to decorate the place with stuffed fish and animal heads and cleaned his rifle every night. But the final straw came when I returned home from grocery shopping to find him skinning a deer on my bed.

Needless to say, I flipped. Who the hell did he think he was? And why, of all places, was the deer on my bed? And where the hell did he get a deer anyways? I live in between a city and suburbs for Christ's sake!

It was so disgusting, I went vegetarian for three days.

... Then I got hungry.

Most recently was a tiny girl from Hong-Kong named Li. She sat on her bed 24/7, never saying a word. She would peer creepily through her long stringy black hair and break apart Styrofoam peanuts into tiny pieces.

She was like freaking Somara with OCD.

Did I mention I _hate _the sound of Styrofoam? Well, I do. That's why I killed her.

Just kidding.

I have no idea what happened to her. One day, just all of her stuff was gone and her with it. I'm assuming she's in a better place now. Or at least, a whiter place. With padded walls.

What draws all these psychopaths to me? Well, it's either because God hates me, or because I illegally painted my front door bright orange.

I think it's because God hates me.

So, you see, it's totally reasonable for me to answer the door to meet my new roommate with a meat cleaver in my left hand.

Opening my fluorescent door, I came face to face with my fifth roommie.

He was not, as I expected, an extremely flexible German sex therapist, intent on trying kinky things on the kitchen counter (perhaps I'd over thought things), but a tall hippie with strange tribal tattoos and an awkward haircut.

After a brief moment, in which I decided he was not enough of a threat to warrant attack, I turned and marched into the kitchen.

"Are you gonna come in, Green Peace?" I called, stuffing the cleaver into a drawer. I closed it with my hip and saw him walk into the kitchen. "Wanna drink?" I opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles cans of cheap beer.

"Sure. My name's Renji, by the way." he said somewhat awkwardly, catching the can and staring at it blankly.

"You pull the tab, Flowers." I said in my most demeaning voice, demonstrating. God, how high was he?

"Oh, thanks." He grinned at me like he'd not just done something retarded.

I downed half my can and, loosing interest, turned to do something else. "So listen, Jenny-"

"Renji."

"Whatever. If you wanna light up a bong and connect with mother earth, or whatever, don't do it here, okay?"

He gave a bewildered nod, like he didn't know what I was talking about, the idiot. "Oh, and no incense." I added eying him as he took a drink of beer.

... And spat it out.

"Whoa! What's your problem?" I asked, staring at him like he had just wasted a perfectly good mouthful of my favorite buy-in-bulk, super-watered-down beer. Oh, wait.

"What- what _is_ that?"

"Buh-ee-ruh." I pronounced like I was talking to a mentally handicapped five year old. A really annoying mentally handicapped five year old. "You know BEER, the only stuff a poor graduate student can afford. I know it's not the best kind, but haven't you _ever _had beer?" Maybe I was over reacting.

Probably not.

"No."

I gaped at him. "First off, that was a rhetorical question. Second, what the hell?"

"I've never had... beer." he said it like a question.

"How old are you?" I asked, marching up and grabbing his chin. I inspected his face from a socially unacceptably short distance, as if hoping to see some proof of his true age. No such luck. I did however, notice for the fist time that he had sideburns. Heh, and I that my dad had the only pair in the country.

"Uh, older than you..." he hedged.

I released his face and stood back to give him my best skeptic look, hand-on-hip included. "And you've never had beer?"

"Well, no. When you asked if I wanted a drink, I thought you meant sake."

Cue raised eyebrow.

"Do I look like I can _afford _sake?"

"Where I come from, that's all they have."

A hippie that drinks sake? "Where the fu-- never mind, I don't care."

I drained the rest of my can, tossed it in the sink and strolled into the next room to plop on my pathetic excuse for a couch. I grabbed the remote and flipped around channels for a good ten minutes before I realized Moonbeam was standing in the kitchen doorway. Guess he really likes doorways.

"Haven't you wasted enough of my day today?" I sighed.

He opened his mouth, apparently thinking of a response. "That was also a rhetorical question. What do you want now, Freebird?"

"Can you show me my room?" he still looked confused.

"Ugh." I peeled myself off my couch and sauntered over to a door a few feet from the T.V. "Here is _our_ room, PETA. And that's your bed." I pointed to the empty furniture on the left side of the room.

"We share a room?"

Lord, this guy is slow.

"Yes, Birkenstock. This is a one room flat." I explained.

"Your ad was to rent a room, not a bed!"

"It is in a room, duh." I scoffed before returning to my couch.

**-o0o-**

Renji sat in his "classroom" the next day lost in thought about the turn of events. He had thought staying with Urahara had been weird. Were all the people from the real world this strange?

He tried to tune out Matsumoto, who was excitedly jabbering away at the next desk about getting to go shopping for real world stuff.

"Hey, Renji." It was Ichigo's voice. He looked away from the now bouncing Matsumoto (didn't that hurt her boobs?) and turned his gaze to the human.

"What's up? Are you okay? You're kinda out of it."

Renji shrugged. "It's nothing. Just, is it customary in the real world to greet guests with a meat cleaver?"

* * *

Me: So... whaddya think? Let me know you like it, I'll let you know I like you(r reviews) and I'll put up the next chapter! Fair enough, right?


	2. A Day In The Life

Me: Hey, so… here's the next chapter. I hope that the two…maybe three of you that enjoyed it like this one too. So thanks for reading and double thanks to anyone who reviews.

Disclaimer: My younger puppy just turned one! And though this may indicate otherwise, I do not own Bleach.

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**Chapter 2 – A Day In The Life…**

Tick tick tick tick.

Glance.

Tick tick tick tick.

SLAM!

"Yeah!" I took my hand off the 'set time' button and fist pumped. There, now every single clock in the flat was perfectly synced. I yawned and stretched, briefly wondering where Flowerchild was before deciding that I didn't really care.

I made my way over to the fridge for my victory beer. I took a long drink, grinning to myself. I had had a very fruitful day indeed.

After waking up around noon, noting that Woodstock wasn't around, and having my good-morning beer and a pop tart, I opened up my laptop and logged onto my neighbor's wi-fi. I spent about six minutes searching for part time jobs before becoming distracted by an article about the health benefits of hemp smoothies.

What a load of bull. Probably some washed-up middle-aged ex-hippie out for one last hurrah. But I wouldn't know, I only looked at the pictures. And speaking of hippies, I couldn't help but to have noticed that my new roommate's corner was looking very bare. Apart from a few personal belongings, he had not decorated at all.

Perfect.

The next hour or two was spent finding, printing and taping up wholesome decorations above Granola's bed.

And by wholesome, I mean pictures of dead pandas, oil spills, capitalists, Richard Nixon, SUVs and the occasional non-organic fruit and/or vegetable.

I stood back to admire my handiwork. Yup. I'm awesome. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face. Glancing at the clock, I noted that it was 1:38 p.m.

Glancing at my laptop, I noted that it was 2:47 p.m.

...

Wait a minute! That was an inconsistency of 69 minutes.

Haha. Sixty-nine. Not an hour and nine minutes, sixty-nine minutes.

After chuckling to myself for a few minutes, I resolved to make every clock in the apartment match. Down to the last second.

And that's how I ended up here, relaxing in my kitchen with a well earned cold one, when Peace Corps got home.

"Hi." he greeted somewhat awkwardly. I made a non-committal noise in reply. He took a deep breath, pulled on a totally fake smile, and asked how my day was.

I was tempted to say something sarcastic, but I was in a good mood. "Stellar." Alright, I couldn't do away with _all_ sarcasm. "I synced all the clocks." I added rather smugly.

"That took you all day?"

"Yeah." I figured he'd find out about my little interior design kick soon enough.

"But there are only two clocks."

And there went my good mood.

Party pooper.

**-o0o-**

Renji watched as her face turned from a self-satisfied smirk to the ugly sort of face that Rukia made when someone spoke ill of Kuchiki-Taicho; the kind made you fear for the well being of certain man-parts.

Only Rukia wouldn't sink that low, no pun intended. He wouldn't, however put it past this human girl.

**-o0o-**

I gave him a look that I sincerely hope made him fear for the well being of certain man-parts.

He did look genuinely concerned, but only for a moment.

Damn.

"Hey, I never got your name." He put on a pretty brave face. I pondered that for a moment. I figured after he had managed to live through my gunna-castrate-choo glare without pissing himself, he had earned at least my name.

"Fine. I'm Aiko."

**-o0o-**

_Aiko?_

Was she serious?

It was all Renji could do to keep from laughing.

It was probably the cutest name he had ever heard. It gave him the mental image of an adorable five-year old skipping and blowing bubbles. It was the kind of name Yachiru would have: cute.

And cute was the last word he would ever use to describe this woman.

Some of his amusement must have shown on his face. "Is there something funny about my name?"

Aw, shit. The glare was back.

He had to distract her, and quick.

"Guess what I did today?" He asked, an excuse already made out. Who said living with a human had to be hard?

"I don't care."

Well, at least she wasn't angry anymore.

He held up a bag human clothes Matsumoto had so graciously provided him with. "I went shopping!" He tried to sound as happy as possible.

Aiko just gave him a look of disbelief before turning and marching into the other room mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like " Oh, great. He's gay too."

**-o0o-**

I flipped on the T.V. and sat down on my couch. Well, perhaps 'sat' was the wrong word. I layed on my back, my butt and thighs where my back should have been, my feet dangling over the back of the couch, and my head hanging limply, upside down over the front.

Reefer gave me a weird look as he walked past, in the direction of the bedroom.

Not two minutes later, he came back into the room and stood with his hands on his hips, which isn't very manly at all. "Why are there pictures of... a squash?"

"It's a _non-organic_ squash." I corrected.

"Why is it next to my bed?"

I sighed. Why did he have to ask such dumb questions? It's hard to think properly when all your blood is rushing into your head. "Come here." I commanded.

He obeyed, albeit suspiciously, and stood in front of me. It was only then, upside down with my head a good five or six feet lower than his, that I noticed he had changed clothes. Gone was the strange hippie outfit, and in its place were a very normal jeans and t-shirt.

Wait, was he not a hippie then? That would explain the lack of reaction at the squash thing. I had to admit that, with normal clothes, he didn't look half bad. Of course, he didn't really look half good either.

"Are you a hippie?"

He didn't answer right away, like he had to think about it.

"It's a yes or no question, Tofu."

**-o0o-**

He had been asked the same question before. Though he couldn't quite recall what exactly a hippie was, he knew how to answer.

"No. Sometimes I just dress different." He tried smiling.

"Damn."

"So, you never answered my question; why are there strange pictures on the wall?" He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, bringing him closer to his eye level.

"Never mind." She said grumpily, then added, "I don't know what to call you now."

"You could just call me Renji, you know, my _name_." He suggested, but she wasn't paying attention. She was staring at his hair and cackling somewhat manically.

"You know, from here," she said between chuckles, "your head looks like it's exploding~!"

"Um, thank you?"

"'Cause your hair, it's all shpfooooo!" She explained, waving her arms in a way that was apparently very explosion-like. Renji decided that upside down was not a very healthy position for Aiko to be in. He shook his head and got up to leave, but not before pulling the little lever on the side of the couch. The built in foot rest popped out, causing her to slam her chin onto her chest.

This time, he could not stop himself from laughing a little as he returned to the bedroom, leaving her looking like an upside down turtle and cursing fervently.

"You're an ass! A big fuckin' ass!"

Such a little sweetheart she was.

* * *

(Bakuha = explosion. Nothing too exciting)

Tum: That was short.

Me: And you smell like dead baby farts.

Tum: I'm surrounded by idiots

Me: Only one idiot, dummy. Anywho, thanks times 4355485 for reading!

And remember, reviews, like the sun, make the world go 'round.


	3. Good Morning, Starshine!

(Uhhh, this chapter has the old A/Ns. I'm way too tired to change them, so I'll just say it here. I'm posting a day early because I'm going camping (huzzah!) tomorrow. As for the next chapter, I'll post that as soon as I get back (probably Monday, I don't remember.)

Me: *sitting like L, eating cake* So guess what? My dad took my iPod. Which means *points fork at screen* he took all the work I had done on this story so far (yeah, I usually write on my iPod. It's slower, but easier to access.) It also means that I'm going into withdrawal as we speak.

Tum: You have an unhealthy obsession with your music

Me: And JellyCar! I need that too!

Tum: Why are you sitting like that?

Me: This is actually extremely comfortable… *gets distracted by Sims*

Disclaimer: I just realized that Yuuko Ichihara is my hero, but I don't own Bleach.

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I blew a puff of air out from between my lips and shook my head dejectedly. It was so unfair. Why God, why? "Why can't I shake my ass like Shakira?" I cried, looking up and extending my hands to the heavens.

"Shake your what like what?"

Oops. Looks like I woke up sleeping beauty.

"It's nothing." I grunted, dropping my arms and turning from the full-length mirror to see my dear roomie's head poking out from between his blankets "Go back to sleep, Bakuha."

"Why are you calling… me… that…" he trailed off. His look of groggy disorientation turning into one of shock. I could only guess that it had finally clicked that I was up before him, which was indeed an event worthy of noting.

That, and I wasn't wearing any pants.

"We've already discussed this, Bakuha-_chan_." I reminded him, reaching for some jeans. "I call you that because your head looks like it's exploding." I stated, matter-of-factly.

"It wasn't much of a _discussion_, per se," he interjected (while staring none-too-discreetly at my behind, the pervert.) "More like you just decided on your own."

"That's pretty much the same thing." I said, rolling my eyes skyward. In retrospect, that wasn't such a great idea. When you are standing on one foot with pants pulled only up to mid-thigh, it is wise to keep your eyes on a still, steady object.

Otherwise, you could end up falling.

"Ow! Son of a— " I groaned, holding my throbbing head and hoping, for his sake of course, that Bakuha wasn't laughing

"Um," I shot him a dirty look about his suspiciously laughing-sounding voice. "I don't think you hit your head."

What was he talking about? Of course I hit my—oh wait, no I hadn't. I don't know what caused me to think that I had, but I decided to stick with it.

"Shut up. You don't know me." I turned my head pointedly away from him in distain. "That hurt like eight bitches on a bitch boat." I mumbled.

"What does that even mean?" Bakuha had come over and was standing in front of me with his hand outstretched. I stared at it for a moment before taking it. He pulled me up.

"Thanks." I mumbled. When he didn't retreat, I glared. "You can let go of me now." I half expected cheesy soft rock to start playing and him to reply "Sorry babe, but no, I can't let you go. Not now, not ever."

Instead I got something more along the lines of "You'll fall on your face if I let go now."

Oh, right. The whole 'changing pants= no balance' thing. Ah, poo. I'd just made an ass out of myself again.

But I had to admit, his logic made sense. So I pulled my hand out of his and worked on getting my clothing on properly. It was pretty awkward zipping up my fly while he steadied me with one hand behind my shoulder blade and the other on my elbow.

"Alright. Go away. You have morning breath." I said gruffly, pushing away and walking to get my bag.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't thank you. Go brush your teeth." I slipped on a pair of shoes and reached for the front door.

"You're being rude." He followed me out the door grinning. When I didn't answer, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"To work. And before you ask, I teach classes as a teaching assistant at the university. Are you wearing shoes?"

It was somewhat of a rhetorical question. It was quite obvious that he was not wearing any shoes, unless he had shoes that bore an uncanny resemblance to human feet. He was also only wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, what he had slept in. Seeing as we were nearly to the entrance (or in this case, exit) to the building, it was a very reasonable thing to be concerned about. Walking barefoot down the street was not the wisest thing in the world. It turned your feet all black.

Not that I've ever tried it.

"Uh, no."

Why does he always answer rhetorical questions?

He stopped at the door and I, predictably, kept walking. "See you tonight." He called after me. I raised my hand in acknowledgement and continued on my not-so-merry way.

**-o0o-**

I set my bag down at the teacher's desk and surveyed the class before me. It was a very small class, considering the size of the university; only about 25 students. Maybe that's why they couldn't get a professor to teach it. Teaching a bunch of rowdy freshman was not exactly what I had planned for in my life, but having a degree in Art History didn't really open that many doors. At least this was only temporary.

I wouldn't have minded it that much if I could only have taught a different class. There was nothing enjoyable to me about teaching 'Erotica in Art Through the Ages.' Also known as 'You Get Credit For Learning About Porn.'

I have not any clue as to why a university would choose to offer such a course. The head of the department claimed it was something about the "progressive and open-minded atmosphere."

Oh yes, that's it. It has nothing to do with the fact that the board is made up of entirely men.

The worst part about it was that it had no prerequisites, meaning each and every student at the university could take it, if they so choose. Needless to say, the class consisted of horny, immature frat boys.

Yay.

"Alright. Three basic rules of this class: One, I am not a walking display of our curriculum. I am your teacher and will be treated as such. Two, I reserve the right to dismiss anyone from the class at any time if I feel they cannot demonstrate the proper maturity to succeed in this course. Three, you will _not _come to class smelling like skeet. Got it?"

A couple of the boys nodded. Most laughed about my last rule.

"I wasn't joking."

It was true. That had actually become a problem before. Apart from being extremely unhealthy, the smell gave me a headache. For some reason the boys in my previous classes thought that by showing their complete lack of hygiene and ability to "get some" would impress either me or their fellow tool classmates.

One kid in the front raised his hand. "When you say you're not a walking display…"

"I mean that I am, under no circumstances, allowed to be hit on, flirted with, asked about my sex life, or fantasized about in any way, shape or form."

This also had been a problem in past classes. Not that I was particularly interesting, attractive or sluttish, but something about the fact that I assigned reading about smut seemed to heighten my sex appeal. Which, was really rather insulting if you thought about it.

"Alright. Here's a list of books I need you to get." I said pointing to a pile of papers on the corner of my desk. "Pick up a sheet on the way out. You don't need them all right away, but we will be using each one at some point in the term so make sure you get it. Oh, and you might want to bring your I.D., some of these books can't be sold to minors."

And, wouldn't you know, each of the boys broke out into perverted smirks. Some even high-fived each other. I mushroom sighed. I could not wait 'til I was out of this place.

**-o0o-**

I decided to take the scenic route home, meaning I got lost. One could say that it was impossible to get lost on a four block walk, but then one would have never met me. It turned out okay in the end though because I bought myself some hot dumplings at a delicious smelling stand.

A few more minutes of walking and I found myself approaching the local high school. Class seemed to have just ended because there were many be-uniformed students pouring out the front gates. This was a good place for me to be; I knew how to get home from here.

I sat down on a nearby bench and munched my dumplings. It was safer for me to eat them when I wasn't walking. I didn't want to risk dropping one. Observing the students talking with their friends and walking home or to the nearest station, my eyes landed on a very interesting orange-haired girl.

She smiled and called out a greeting to one of the groups as she approached. The others in the group also waved as she bounced up to them. It was a very strange looking group, to say the least. There was an elementary schooler with bleached hair standing immediately next to a man that was completely bald. And next to him was…

… another student with a mass of bright red hair?

_No way. _

* * *

Me: Bum bum bum~!

Tum: Did you just say… bum?

Me: It was supposed to be suspenseful music.

Tum: I think you meant "Dun dun dun~!"

Me: Liar! It's bum! Tell me dear readers: is it bum or dun?

Tum: Stop trying to milk reviews out of people.


	4. It's Not What You Think

Me: So camping was rad…

Tum: You haven't left yet.

Me: Oh, yeah. Well, when I post this, I will have gone and come back. I'm just getting it ready to post so I don't have to do any work later. And I'm just going to assume that it was/ will be rad because… it's camping. It's always rad.

Tum: You aren't making very much sense.

Me: (slaps) Go die!

Disclaimer: If you ever want a delicious s'more, I'm your man, (hey, they don't call me the "Mallow-Meister" for nothing) but if you are looking for the rights to Bleach, search elsewhere… I do not own them

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_Bakuha... is a pedophile?_

My dumplings fell to the ground with a soft _squish_.

'I knew it! Why do I always attract the strangest roommates?' I thought, making a face.

It then occurred to me that it was much more likely that he really was a high school student and that he had lied about his age. He hadn't given a specific number after all. And that wasn't nearly as strange; lots of people lie about their age.

..... But 'lots of people' did not have a crazy bitch seeking revenge for the untimely death of her dumpling.

Yes. I blamed it on him.

My first thought was to use a pebble and my self defense sling-shot.

What? You never know when you might get attacked, and a sling-shot is the perfect tool to fend off enemies. It's got the rubber band for distance fighting and the two points at the top worked perfectly as eye pokers in close combat situations. It's very practical.

And a lot cheaper than mace.

For this situation however, I decided to use a different tactic.

I crept up behind my target, carefully assessing the surroundings. There were seven other people in the group. Clockwise from Bakuha were: the bald guy, a very girly guy (or perhaps a very masculine girl), the girl with orange hair, a boy with even orange-ier hair, a shorter girl with dark hair (and ridiculously big eyes that made her look as if she had jumped out of a shoujo manga), another female with massive boobs, and the white haired hobbit.

Wow. High school sure has changed since I was there.

I moved closer and then silently, carefully crouching...

..... I jumped onto his back, wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, piggy-back style.

He automatically caught me, putting his hands under my knees for support.

.....

O...kay? 'Cause that's not a weird reflex or anything.

Though I suppose it would be rather useful for a pedophile, so I decided not to write that one off just yet.

"Bakuha~!" I – for lack of a better word – squealed. He looked somewhat taken aback. As if, for some strange reason, he didn't expect to suddenly find his roommate on his back with an evil plan to embarrass him in front of his friends.

"Uh, hi, Aiko..." he replied in a somewhat disconcerted voice.

"Abarai, what is the meaning of this?" came the strangely gruff voice of the hobbit to our right. I was about to ask who this Abarai character was when he continued, "Why is there a woman on your back?"

Oh. Okay.

"This, Capt-- uh, Hitsugaya, is my roommate Aiko."

"Pleased to meet'cha!" I gave a mock salute, partly to make fun of the formal language my friend had used.

After a brief pause the short girl introduced herself as Rukia. "What did you call Renji?" she asked.

"Bakuha," I replied matter-of-factly.

"Can I ask why you call him that?" she prompted in a genuinely curious voice.

It was at that moment that I realized just how sexual my little nick name could be construed as.

Heh. Now was my one big chance to make him look like an ass. "Oh, you know..." I scanned the group and my eyes landed on Titties, the one standing next to Hitsu-papaya or whatever his name was.

"Bak-u-ha." I pronounced each syllable slowly, wiggling my eyebrow suggestively. I knew she got my little innuendo when a perverted grin broke on her face.

She wasn't the only one. The hobbit looked disturbed, the shoujo girl slightly shocked, carrot top's face turned an interesting shade of red, Titties Jr. looked completely lost, the androgynous fellow raised an eyebrow and Vin Diesel let out a low whistle.

Bakuha looked mortified.

_Yes._

After a moment Titties laughed. "I like this girl. Hi, I'm Rangiku." She introduced herself, holding out her hand in greeting.

I decided to overlook the fact that a high school student, albeit a very... well developed high school student, was calling me 'girl' and introduced myself as well.

"Aiko." I smiled and also stuck my hand out.

The only problem was that our hands were still a good foot and a half away from each other. Bakuha would have to step closer. I started to get impatient when, after several seconds, he hadn't budged. I cleared my throat.

Nothing.

"Move,"I groaned, clapping his sides with my heels.

Still nothing.

Oh, so he was ignoring me. ( And no, it definitely did not take me a half a minute to figure that out.) Well fine. As long as we're being so mature about this whole thing...

"You're being," I half snarled, adjusting myself to hang on without arms. "A stubborn," I maneuvered my left hand into position. "little bitch!" I put my hand on his ass and squeezed.

It had the desired effect. He gave a surprised yelp and jumped forward, closing the gap between my hand and Titties', allowing for a quick hand shake.

It also had the undesired affect of him dropping me like a particularly sexually aggressive hot potato.

Falling to the ground, I was not thinking of something practical, such as how to land with minimum damage to vital organs or memorizing helpful Polish phrases.

No, my mind was stuck somewhere between the mental image of a potato-hooker, which is more than a little bit disturbing, and the thought that I just might have gone too far.

I didn't have much time to ponder if Bakuha's anger was warranted, however, before I was miraculously caught inches from the ground.

My rescuer was... a giant Guatemalan? No, he looked more Mexican than anything else. Distinction between Central Americans is something I pride myself on. I thought for a moment that I had hit my head and was having some sort of hallucination before I remembered that the characters of my hallucinations were almost always African bushmen.

**-o0o-**

Renji watched Aiko flap her mouth open and shut a few times as she stared up at Chad.

'In a circle of high level shinigami, it had been a human that wasn't even here, to catch her? Well,' Renji snorted inwardly, 'it wouldn't have been him to catch her anyways. That would defeat the purpose of dropping her in the first place.'

"Hiiiiiiiiii Raul!" She called in a much louder voice than was necessary.

"Sado." He corrected her quietly as he helped her back up on her feet.

"Ooh! What's this?" Rangiku bent down to the mess of things that had fallen out of Aiko's book bag. She stood back up with assorted books in her hands. "_Sexuality of the Ancient Near East_? _Naked Art: The Complete History of Erotic Images In Popular Culture_?"

She read the titles and gave a questioning look at Aiko.

"Those are for my class!" She said cheerfully, reaching out to take the books from Rangiku's hand, completely oblivious to the strange looks she was receiving, especially from the humans. The vice-captain gave up the books, but not before reading the title of a third one aloud.

"_Kama Sutra_?"

"I was curios," Aiko shrugged. Rangiku opened the book and flipped

through it.

Her eyes widened slightly, then, "Can I borrow this?"

Before Aiki could answer, she took off, disappearing into the crowd of teenagers. Renji felt a hand slip into his pocket.

He was more focused on the fact that he had been violated more than in the span of about two minutes than on stopping the culprit.

Aiko stood there, dangling his key. Of course it was her; that woman had no knowledge of 'personal bubbles.'

"If you don't hunt down Titties and reclaim my book, you don't get anywhere to sleep."

"Titties?" Echoed Yumichika, (wouldn't you know) smirking.

Renji could only sputter incohenently at the injustice of it. "Wha-why?" he managed to spit out.

"_Why_?" she said rather nastily. "Because she's your friend and because that book cost me about two days worth of beer money, that's why." She paused. "Don't just stand there gawking, idiot. The further she gets, the harder she is to find. You _do_ want to sleep inside tonight, don't you?" With that she walked away, calling over her shoulder "Bye, Frodo! Bye, Shoujo Girl!"

Renji turned on his heels and set off in the direction of Matsumoto's reiatsu, cursing. He couldn't decide who he wanted to throttle more, his fellow vice-captain or that stupid girl.

**-o0o-**

I yawned and lazily looked at the clock; just past seven. Prime-time, my ass. There was nothing worth watching on TV, and certainly not anything worth sitting through commercials for.

I switched it off and let out a dramatic sigh. Damn, I was thirsty.

And Bakuha wasn't around to be my bitch and get a beer for me. Not that he would anyway.

I grumbled and rolled straight off the couch and onto the floor. Adjusting my angle slightly, I rolled towards the kitchen. At the doorway I curled up and rolled through in the fetal position. When I got close enough to the fridge I stuck my leg up in the air, hooked my foot in the door handle and pulled it open with my fantastic ab strength.

Good. There were a few cans on the bottom shelf. I pulled myself into a sitting position. I grabbed one, stuck it down my shirt, between my boobs, closed the door and rolled back to the couch.

There was a knock at the front door. Well, not so much a 'knock' as incessant hammering.

Three guesses who that is.

Yeah, I was thinking a Boy Scout too.

Forcing myself to stand, I walked over and pulled the door tentatively open, covering my face, just in case it was a Boy Scout.

Because everyone knows that the moment you make eye contact, you've fallen into their cleverly disguised 'cute little boy' trap. Then where are you? Thirty dollars poorer with only the though of a half a tin of mediocre-at-best popcorn to console you.

It was not, however, a Boy Scout.

"Hi, Bakuha! Welcome ho--" I was cut off by him brushing angrily past, slamming the door behind him. "I missed you too," I mumbled under my breath.

"Why are you stalking me?" he demanded, practically shoving my stolen book back into my arms. I didn't have time to savor my reunion, however.

"Stalking you?"

"Don't play dumb."

"How else can we talk on the same level?" I countered.

"Don't be a smart ass either. Why. Are. You. Stalking. Me?"

"I'm not. What would give you such an idiotic idea?"

"Oh, yeah. You just _happened_ to be at the exact same place and time as me?" He asked with more sarcasm than a pissed off high school student.

Oh, wait.

"That's exactly what it was!" My voice was now rising too. "Besides, you have no right to be mad at me. You're the one who lied about his age or sexual orientation or whatever! I could get into serious trouble for living with an underage kid! Did you even think about

that?" I was practically shouting at that point.

He looked slightly taken aback for a moment, but regained his anger quickly. "You have no right to steal my key or grope me or talk to my ...friends."

**-o0o-**

It was strange that Renji had to call the group friends. Not in this world, or in any other, had he ever considered Hitsugaya-taichou a 'friend.'

Even stranger was his rapidly fading fury. He didn't often loose control so easily like this. Though, he didn't often have to deal with that sociopath of a roommate.

The room suddenly felt stifling and claustrophobic. He needed to get out of it. He went quickly into the bedroom, not looking back.

He didn't see Aiko's confused and angry expression. He didn't see it turn into one of curiosity as she bent to pick something off the ground. He did not see her examining his dropped Soul Candy.

And he certainly didn't hear her ask quietly, "Pez?"

There was no way he could have known what kind of trouble would follow.

* * *

Me: So, here's where I spiel on how much I love you for reading and stuff…

Tum: …

Me:…

Tum: …Well?

Me: Nah, I'll let you guys sweat it out. (spooky voice) Ooooh! Is she thankful or noooot?

Tum: Oh, Christ.


	5. You Know You're Crazy When

Me: (brooding) Fail.

Tum: What's fail?

Me: Me, this chapter, drive-up ATMs that have braille... take your pick. Anyways I've decided that my promises mean jack-shit. So I'm not promising anymore. I will say this, however, even thought there may be dreadfully long waits between chapters (sometimes) I really want to finish this story. There, no promise, but my intentions are good. (Note: The story _is _finished. I left this author's note for future reference.)

Me: In other news, I went to see who had visited my story these first few days of August. (Holy shit! It's August!) And I decided to say something nice about/ make a toast to each of the countries!

U.S. – Oh, United States. I love your… size? (gigglesnort innuendo) Well, I live there, so that just heightened your cool factor. Joking… sorta. Um, (prepare for nerdy statement) I have a book with every state quarter? Except for Utah. Fucking Utah.

U.K. – I'm not gonna lie, the UK is pretty badass. (Though I have to say I hold a particular favorite for Edinburgh, anyone from there?) A lot of cool things come from you: Harry Potter, Jude Law, fun British stereotypes… but mostly Harry Potter. Cheers!

Canada – Our fun frozen neighbor from the north. I have two words for you: maple candy. My Achilles heel. While that doesn't really apply to the whole of Canada, (gimme a break, I've only been there twice) it is certainly delicious enough for me to not really give a fart.

Poland – Cześć! Aaaaand… that's all the Polish I know. You're the first country on the list that I haven't been to, so I can't honestly say much about your country. The Polish-American's that I know, however, are awesome people so we'll just take the ignorant way out and assume that all people from Poland are equally awesome!

Ireland – The other country I haven't been to! I used to think being partly Irish meant something. Then I got older and realized that freaking everyone is part Irish. Seriously, In my biology class last year, my teacher asked and the only people who didn't raise their hands were two kids. Their names were Meng and José. What does that tell you? So here's to you Ireland, for being _all _Irish.

New Zealand – My favorite place in the world! Seriously, your country is AMAZING! Where else could I wake up, go make friends with a sheep named Rambo, have crumpets with gold syrup for breakfast (and lunch, and with tea in the afternoon,) watch the All Blacks play on a TV station I didn't have to pay extra for, and then be confused when a little girl asks me to play "tiggy?" (translation to American: tag.) So lift your glasses of Milo, and toast being awesome.

Australia – While the scenery, buildings, and natural wonders of Australia are what people usually visit for, my favorite part was the people. Seriously, everyone there is just so... nice. You may not have the Flight of the Concords, but you have the hugs to make up for it… And no sales tax. I like that.

Disclaimer: I own a one-eyed albino hedgehog, but I don't own Bleach

* * *

**Chapter 5 – You Know You're Crazy When…**

Some things are dangerous. Some things are not. Some things are only safe depending on context. For example, eating cupcakes is relatively safe. Eating cyanide is relatively dangerous. And stuffing your coat with odd shaped pillows usually very safe. Unless you are in an airport.

Hovering directly over someone's face waiting for someone to wake up is moderately safe. Or so I thought. As it turns out, it's one of those situations that has its danger level based on context.

But I did not know that as I held my breath and lowered my face to mere inches from Bakuha's face. I almost wet myself in excitement for him to give a girly little scream and sit up so quickly that we would bump heads in a painful but comical display. He let out a quiet groan and his eyes began to slide open.

_3, 2, 1...__**Bam! **_**  
**  
In a split second I was under Bakuha... and not in a sexy way.

**-o0o-**

Renji blinked, trying to take in the situation. One moment he had been asleep, the next he had Aiko pinned face down below him. And not in a sexy way either. He held her head against the floor with one hand. The other was forcing her arm into a position that was very uncomfortable for, but give him an easy position to break it. He racked his brain furiously, trying to come up with an explanation for his current position.

He had been at the stage of sleep just before waking, when all of a sudden, he saw someone very close to him. With the reflexes born from years of training he had counterattacked, forcing his unknown opponent into a helpless position.

He groaned, partly at the fact that this was not a favorable way to wake up, but mostly because Aiko was spitting mad, if the indecipherable shouts she was hurling into the carpet were any indicator.

He debated briefly whether or not to just sit there. Maybe if he stayed still long enough she'd pass out from lack of oxygen or something. Which could also accidently kill her. He groaned again and slid off her back.

She immediately rolled over, glaring death at him. "What the hell? What are you, a fucking ninja or something?" Renji tried not to roll his eyes. "I'm serious. Are you a ninja?" She sounded more curious than mad so he allowed himself a chuckle before responding.

"No, I'm not a ninja." He stood up and went to his closet, pulling out the school uniform he had to wear. It was a bit of a relief not to have to hide it anymore. Still, he didn't know what he would say if she asked for an explanation.

"Sooo, about yesterday..."

_Crap._

**-o0o-**

"Whoa, chill," I tried not to laugh at my suddenly tense roommate. "I'm not going to ask why you didn't tell me you're in high school." He visibly relaxed. "I just wanted to know how you managed to get my book back from Titties."

He turned around, clutching a bundle of clothes and gave a slightly surprised look upon seeing me sitting in his bed, which, might I say, was rather comfortable. He shrugged it off saying, "What's it to you how I got it back, isn't it enough that I did?" I tried not to stare as he pulled off his shirt.

"I was just curious. Titties doesn't seem the type to just hand it back without compensation."

"She's not." I waited for him for him to elaborate as he pulled a plain tee shirt on.

When he didn't I prompted, "So, what," I put on a cheeky grin. "You go down on her or someth--"

"No!" he almost shouted, his face turning red. "If you're gonna be that annoying, I'll just tell you. I bought her off with sake." Buttoning his uniform shirt, he added, "She's as much of a crazy drunk as you, now that I think about it."

I scoffed inwardly at his crappy insult. "So you didn't... ya know...."

"No I did not! Stop saying those things!" his face re-reddened. "You're such a pervert." he grumbled, moving into the bathroom to, I assume, change his pants and underwear. "I can't believe I went to all that effort just to get your stupid human-porn back." He paused suddenly, as if he had said something he shouldn't have.

I poked my head around the corner, smiling slyly. "Human porn?" I asked, eyeing my now fully dressed roommate. Wow, that was quick. "As opposed to my extensive leprechaun porn collection?" I laughed at the look on his face. "Weirdo." I muttered, turning away. "Oh, one more thing." I spoke from the doorway. "That book is not porn, it's instructional. Also, I don't care what you're excuse is, you shouldn't be giving sake to a high schooler. And your fly's unzipped."

"That was three things!" he said, almost indignantly, from the bathroom.

**-o0o-**

Needless to say, Renji was not having a good day. Since yesterday's "incident" it had become a bit of a running joke that he had the Perverted Ice-Bitch for a roommate. He had become the butt if almost every joke, courtesy of Matsumoto, Ikkaku and Yumichika. The worse part was that they weren't even good jokes.

Halfway through the day Ikkaku had asked Renji if he had a pencil. Before he could answer, Rangiku cut in, "You should ask Aiko~!"

It was all Renji could do not to bang his head on his desk as the pair erupted into laughter. By the end of the day, even Rukia was laughing at their lewd jokes.

On top of being harassed all day, Renji had another, even bigger problem: he lost his soul candy. He'd already been chewed out by Hitsugaya-taicho for being so "careless." But the worst was yet to come. In just a few minutes, when class ended, he would have to get another pack of soul candy. And that meant going to see Urahara.

**-o0o-**

I dropped my bag and kicked off my shoes. I popped my sore back. Jeeze, who knew teaching a class about porn could be such a chiropractic nightmare. I shuffled to my couch and fell onto it. A strange uncomfortableness on my butt reminded me of my recent... acquisition. I pulled the Pez dispenser out of my back pocket, eyeing the cute little lamb head on top.

I poked it.

Out came a tiny, brightly colored ball which landed in my lap. "Oh, it's a knock-off." I grumbled. Whoever had made it didn't even try to make the candy realistic. I picked the ball up and rolled it between my fingers. I glared at it, angry that it had tried to trick me into thinking it was a Pez. Little bastard.

I didn't look like Pez. It didn't feel like Pez. It didn't smell or sound like Pez. And seeing as there is no sixth sense applicable to candy, all that was left was...

**-o0o-**

"Hey Renji, wait up." He paused, allowing Rukia and Ichigo to catch him. "You're going to Urahara's, right? We're headed there too." Rukia said as they fell into step with him.

"Why?" Renji asked, a little relieved he wasn't going alone.

Ichigo shrugged. "I didn't want to go home yet."

Rukia's reason was a little more valid. "My pager isn't working right, I need a new one."

"Why? What happened?"

"See for yourself." She produced her pager and tossed it to Ichigo. Who wasn't paying attention.

It bounced off his head. "What the -" He was at least quick enough to catch it before it hit the ground.

"Why'd you throw it to him? He's not even paying attention!" Renji complained, watching Ichigo rub his head. Rukia simply kept walking.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Asked the teen, flipping it open. Renji peered at the screen over his shoulder. "What's wrong with it?"

Renji didn't answer right away. He gazed at the strange clusters of dots that were supposed to represent hollows. He pulled out his own pager. It was completely clear, no hollows.

"It's broken," said Ichigo, quite unnecessarily.

"No shit." Despite his words, Renji had a nagging feeling that there was something more to the situation than just a broken pager...

**-o0o-**

I stuck my tongue out and gave the tiny thing an exploratory lick. And then...

Nothing. It didn't taste like anything whatsoever. Well that was a fail. But maybe the flavor is on the inside!

"Ha! You can't outsmart me!" I popped into my mouth and waited.

**-o0o-**

"Ichigo." The boy jumped slightly at the sudden break in silence. "Can you widen the radius on that thing?" Ichigo looked at Rukia's pager which he still held.

"I think so. But why--?" he was cut off.

"Zoom out so we can see the whole prefecture- no, the whole city."

"Use yours," Ichigo responded. "This one doesn't work. Did you forget or are you just retarded?"

"Just do it." Renji glared.

"Fine, fine. Chill out." Ichigo backed down and did as he was told. "Here, you happy? It's--" He was cut of again, only this time it was by himself. Upon glancing at the new display on the screen he said, "Is that..?"

"... a smiley face." Renji finished for him. Sure enough, when the entire city was visible the "hollow" dots formed a picture of a winking smiley face, complete with a rather impressive handle-bar moustache.

Rukia whipped around and snatched the small device. Anger crept across her face as she looked at the screen.

"Urahara!"

**-o0o-**

I looked at the clock. It had been almost four minutes and I still couldn't taste a damn thing. I spat it into hand. Useless piece of shit.

I went over and dropped it into the sink. I turned on the water for a moment to wash it down the drain. I switched it off and headed to my fridge. I stuffed the rest of the not-so-Pez in my pocket thinking that maybe they were supposed to be chewed. I popped the tab on a beer, deciding I would give the mystery one last chance.

**-o0o-**

Renji and Ichigo exchanged a look. "Screw this," Ichigo said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I don't wanna be around Rukia when she's pissed. I'm going home."

He turned back the direction they had come, leaving Renji to find the shop on his own.

Renji tried not to groan as he slowly made his way to his destination. He didn't particularly want to deal with an angry Rukia either.

He braced himself before sliding the shop's front door open. He stepped in carefully, expecting to be bombarded by his best friend's wrath. He edged warily to the back of the shop, where he saw the back of Urahara. The shop owner was facing Rukia who was... smiling?

Renji approached the pair and saw his friend holding... a Chappy soul candy dispenser.

Seriously? Was that all it took? One minute she's pissed, the next she's practically giggling. And all because of some stupid bunny... thing. Oh well, might as well take advantage of the situation. He hitched a relatively cheerful expression onto his face.

"Ah, Moocher! Fancy seeing you here! Hope you haven't come to abuse my generosity." The shop keeper greeted him with a grin.

Renji deflated. "And you wonder why I didn't want to stay here," he grumbled under his breath.

"No. In fact, it would have been polite for you to have left much sooner." He flipped open his trademark paper fan. "But I'm a forgiving man, no need to worry. I forgive you."

"You... forgive me?" Renji repeated incredulously.

"A selfless move, I know."

"That wasn't what I meant!"

**-o0o-**

"This is your last chance, Pez imposter!" I put a fresh piece in my mouth and bit down. Hard.

And _fuck_, did that hurt. Eyes watering, and with what felt like a broken tooth, I hobbled in the direction of the nearest sink to spit the infernal thing out. Well apparently having that "just-drilled" feeling makes you unable to walk straight. Or have really bad depth perception. Or maybe I'm just naturally clumsy. For whatever reason, I didn't make it to my goal.

I suddenly lost balance, having tripped on a particularly wily patch of nothing. Great. Now I had a bruised elbow and a stinging chin in addition to my gimp tooth.

And I had swallowed the demon-candy...

And, as horribly cliché as it was, everything faded into black. Not purple, not yellow, not chartreuse. Black.

**-o0o-**

"Right. So which soul candy did you have? You still want the same kind right?" Urahara asked, shifting through boxes of god-knows-what.

"Uh, yeah," said Renji. "It's the one that just sleeps." He was more than a little miffed at the moment. Between Urahara's little quips about "how dirty this place is. If only there was someone to clean it up..." and Rukia's flakiness, he just wanted to punch something. Of course she was being no help at all, vacillating between laughing at the shop keeper's jokes and staring all sparkly-eyed at her new soul candy.

"Here it is!" Urahara trilled, pulling a replacement out of one of the boxes. "One Leo the Lamb, special napping gikon!" Renji reached out for it, only to have it snatched away. "Ah! This is about equal to one Saturday's worth of cleaning the gutters on the roof, don't you think?"

"No." said Renji in his best cold Kuchiki-taicho impression. It didn't work. Urahara just laughed.

"You got a stick up your butt or somethin'? Fine, if you want you can clean the bathrooms..."

"No." he said again, but much more quickly and grabbed the item. "I'll be here next week." he said resignedly, wishing he could just pay with money.

"Of course!" Urahara's grin widened. "Oh, and Renji," he spoke before he could leave. "It would be best if you found your missing soul candy soon." He exchanged his leer for a more serious face. "You never know what might happen if a human found it."

* * *

Meh, I had to stop it there or it would never have ended. I'm sorry if you don't like that... well actually no, I'm not. But if you do, review. (And don't say anything about that rhyming.)

P.S. Haha. The smiley face idea was not mine. I got it from Lucy Daughter of the Devil. Only Satan does that with pedophiles. Ha! It's hilarious.

Tum: I believe you are forgetting something…

Me: Hm? Oh yeah! Thanks for reading! Double thanks for subscribing (we all know you're just too lazy to check on your own, but, hey, no foul, I do it too), triple thanks for favoriting, and quadruple thanks for reviewing! Now, wouldn't you like quadruple thanks?


	6. A Day In The Death

Me: I'm in a bad mood. So, once again, here's the same A/N from before. Feast.

Tum: Feast?

Me: Yes, feast, you jackass.

Tum: No wonder nobody likes you.

Me: (narrows eyes) Don't test me.

Me: Thank you reviewers, reviewers,etc! I hope this chapter is up to your standards. Though they can't be all that high if you're reading this in the first place.

Disclaimer: I'm totally playing Carmen Sandiego's Great Chase Through Time (fuck you, Gutenberg. Fix your own damn printing press!), but I do not own Bleach.

* * *

**Chapter 6 – A Day In The Death…**

"Uh," Renji was starting to get nervous. "What _would_ happen?" Rukia looked up from her Chappy, listening.

"Well," Urahara paused and the atmosphere seemed to darken,  
"they'd probably die."

**-o0o-**

_I'm dead. I'mdeadI'mdeadI'mdead. Saggy balls of __Winston Churchill__, I'm fucking dead!_

My eyes, that I hadn't realized were closed, shot open. My first thought was that death felt very tickly and quite floaty. My second thought, as I was levitating there on my back, was that Heaven had really shitty ceilings. My third thought— as I began looking around — was that God had excellent taste in men, as there was a Bruce Lee poster hanging on a nearby wall, accompanied by a heart shaped Post-it note. I lost the exact count of my thoughts after that, but it was around the sixteenth or seventeenth that I started to become uncomfortable with the striking similarities between Heaven and my apartment... which was more than a little ridiculous.

Or perhaps it was Hell.

Or I wasn't dead.

I supposed that, in the end, the latter two were pretty much the same thing.

Fuck. I'm so over dramatic.

I sat up with a groan. Yes, the most logical explanation was that I was not dead because  
A. Bakuha is a stoner,  
B. His Pez are not actually candy, and  
C. I can't hold my narcotics.

I pushed myself unsteadily onto my feet. And then I saw it. Right where I had been laying. Sprawled on the floor; my body. _My dead fucking body._

**-o0o-**

"Die?" Renji repeated, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"Well, like I said," Urahara was grinning again, "I really don't know what would happen if a human ingested soul candy. And really, who's stupid enough to eat something they just picked up off the ground?"

Renji grimmaced. He knew _exactly_ who would be stupid enough to do such a thing.

**-o0o-**

I let out a screech like a freaking banshee and began running in circles. All I could think was that I was _dead_.

Some relatively rational part of me directed my body... spirit... thing towards a wall, perhaps hoping to literally knock some sense into myself.

One moment I was yelling and bolting toward my wall, the next, I was balancing on a three inch ledge, sixty feet above the ground. I had gone _through_ the wall. I screamed even louder. I clung desperately to the building behind me as the wind whipped fiercely through my hair and traffic sped along below me.

...Alright, it was a gentle breeze. And a fat guy on a green mo-ped going 25 isn't exactly "speeding traffic," but it was still terrifying.

And why, for the love of God, could I not get back through my wall into the safety of my apartment?

No sooner had I thought this, than the wall suddenly gave and I found myself flopping back into my living room. This did nothing to calm me however, for, not three feet away was my body.

I threw my arms into the air, and, while hollering at the top of my voice, bolted for the exit.

I ran down seven flights of stairs, realized I was in the basement, ran back up one flight and onto the street. Where I was going, and why my arms were still in the air, I had no idea.

I sprinted around a corner and came to a dead stop. There, in front of me was a twenty foot tall... thing. It was like a giant frog with sickly, mottled green skin and a horrible white warrior's mask. And where it's eyes should have been, nothing. Just two chasms of terrifying black emptiness.

I nearly crapped my pants.

The creature turned toward me and I knew I didn't want to be anywhere near it. I booked it out of there. The creature gave a bone-chilling howl and leapt after me. Truthfully, I didn't know how long I could out run it.

**-o0o-**

Ichigo gave an extra push to his sword, slicing neatly through the hollow's body. He panted slightly as he landed and the hollow faded away. He had encountered a small group of low level hollow on his way home and had just taken care of the last.

Suddenly he heard a scream. Turning, he saw a young woman, dressed in shinigami robes running down the street.

"It's gonna kill me!" she shouted, speeding past him. He had only a moment to ponder who the shinigami was before he dismissed it. Whatever she was so scared of must be something incredibly powerful to send a shinigami running.

He smiled. Finally, a bit of a challenge. He moved to the middle of the street, spread his legs out slightly and held Zangetsu out before him.

When thing came around the corner the woman had come from, Ichigo nearly dropped his sword.

It was a hollow, probably one of the weakest he had ever had to deal with. It wasn't tiny, but neither was it particularly fast or intelligent looking. Its scrawny arms couldn't have been very strong. So much for a challenge. It only took Ichigo one leap to slice through the thing and cause it too to fade away.

**-o0o-**

"Hey, lady!" I poked my head around the other side of the wall I was hiding behind. There was no longer a giant frog-beast. In the middle of the street stood a teen-aged boy with shockingly bright orange hair. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

I stepped out from my hiding spot. "Uh, hi." I said when I realized he'd been calling to me. "Nice, um, kendo outfit." I gestured at his getup. This earned me a strange look.

"Where's your zanpakuto?" he asked suddenly.

"Tom hawked what?"

He looked at me like I was retarded. "Where is your zanpakuto?" he said slowly, gesturing to the large weapon in his hand. How had I missed that?

"I don't have a giant filet knife, sorry." I got another demeaning look that suggested I was of lower intelligence than the average person.

"What's your name?"

"Aiko." I answered promptly. Oops. That was stupid. I gave myself a mental titty-twister for telling a total psycho my name.

"Aiko?" His voice was filled with a sudden familiarity. "Renji's Aiko?"

That's when I recognized him. "Ginger?" Yep, he was definitely one of the kids I had met outside the high school.

"But... you're a shinigami?" He asked looking rather confused.

"A death god? Sure." I rolled my eyes. "I'm also one sixteenth sea dragon and three eights mermaid princess, how on Earthdid you know?"

He shook his head, as if clearing it. "Why are you wearing a shihakusho?"

"I'm not wearing... oh." I was wearing an outfit identical to Ginger's. "Um, I'm not sure why I'm wearing this, uh... what did you call it?" I looked up.

He had an apologetic look in his eyes. "Sorry, Aiko."

"For wha--?"

Next thing I knew I had been pulled up onto his shoulders, and we were speeding through the city.

"RAPE!" I began shouting like a mad woman. "RAPE! RAAAPE!"

"Shut up." The teen grunted. "No one can hear you anyway."

"I don't want your nasty ginger balls on me!" I howled. "Don't run so close to the wall! I almost hit the last one! I don't need a concussion to add to being sexually violated!"

"Shut up!" He spoke louder this time. "And I'm not gonna hit your freakin' hea--."

**Smack!**

And for the second time that day, everything went black.

**-o0o-**

The shop's front door burst open. There, on the threshold stood Ichigo. Draped over his shoulders was a clearly unconscious Aiko. But probably the strangest part was the they were both in shinigami robes.

There was a moment of complete silence. Then Rukia rushed forward. "Ichigo, who is this? And what did you do to her?"

Ichigo blanched. "I didn't do anything!" he said defensively.

Renji came back to life. He pulled Aiko from the teen's back. "Then why is she unconscious, dumbass!?" He punched Ichigo in the back of the head for emphasis.

"Unconscious?" He rubbed his head. "Oh. That's probably why she stopped yelling 'rape.'"

"Yelling _what_?"

Ichigo held his hands in front of him as he backed away from the angry looking Renji. "I-I can explain!" His voice came out a whole octave higher than usual. Renji was about to retort when a sudden chuckle burst the tense atmosphere. Three heads turned toward the shopkeeper.

"Don't be so quick to blame Ichigo, Renji." The shinigami narrowed his eyes at Urahara. "Well, it looks to me like this young woman is the result of misplaced gikon. Looks like you're more to blame than anyone else."

* * *

Me: Soooo... I totally don't deserve it, but you should review. If not for my sake, for Tum's. Don't hurt his feelings.  
Tum: I don't give a rat's ass.  
Me: That's gross. And not true.  
Tum: NOBODY CARES!!!  
Me: O.o

P.S. I have a totally random and unrelated poll on my page. Go take it.


	7. Awkward Silence Is Golden

Tum: Weenie has some announcements:

Me: Oh, yeah!

story is almost over! Egad! Only three chapters left! But don't whine to me because A. this was originally a one shot… seriously. And B. there will be a oneshot booklet that I will post in from time to time that details Renji and Aiko's various (mostly crack-tastic) adventures!

2. This story totally has a theme song. I kid you not, it's perfect. But you won't find out what it is until the last chapter. Ha!

3. I'm going on to my next story. Have three ideas and I just can't seem to decide. Which is why next chapter, I'll give you a brief summary of each and ask or you opinion. For now, I'll just say that there is one idea for Bleach, one for D. Grayman and two for Deathnote.

4. I love you. I love your reviews. I love cake.

Disclaimer: If _my_ life had a soundtrack, the first song would be Just Say No by , but it says nothing about owning Bleach, 'cause I don't.

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Awkward Silence Is Golden**

I felt incredibly groggy, as if I had just woken up with a massive hangover, headache included. Seriously, I felt like my head had been bashed in with a dead baby or something disturbing like that. I mumbled something along the lines of "mflunghdt" and opened my eyes.

I immediately noticed four things:

1. I was laying on my back on what felt like a tatami mat.

2. I was laying in a very plain, traditional style room,

3. A room that I was 86% certain I had never been in before.

4. There was a creepy man staring at me.

Unfortunately, the latter two had happened before.

"You're awake."

"Well spotted." I eyed the man, which was easier said then done due to the fact that most of his head was either covered by a fedora-like striped hat or hidden behind a fan. He closed the fan, revealing a grin.

"That wasn't very nice, Aiko."

I simply stared. "Where am I?"

"My shop."

I looked around again. What kind of shop consisted of an impersonalized old-fashioned bedroom? I gasped and turned an accusing glare at the man. "I'm in a brothel?"

The man laughed. He looked like he was about to contradict me when a door slid open. "Kisuke." A dark skinned woman walked in wearing nothing but a tight corset and underwear. "Renji keeps asking for you, he says that he – "

"Ah!" was all I could think to say. I stared at the woman in horror. She had just confirmed two of my fears. Now I new that yes, I was in a whore house, and yes, my dear roommate was gay.

The woman looked at me "Oh, you're awake."

"… I'm in a brothel." This time it wasn't a question.

**-o0o-**

Renji groaned, bored. He had already exhausted his first form of entertainment: yelling at Ichigo like the whole situation was his fault. It was fun watching the kid get flustered and defensive. At one point, Rukia had joined in and insisted that Aiko be moved into one of the 'sick' rooms behind the shop, causing Ichigo to start yelling that they were being overdramatic.

He sighed again and looked around the table, searching for something to entertain himself with. He was sitting in a room behind Urahara's shop, waiting for Aiko to wake up. With him, looking equally bored, were the rest of the shinigami he had come to the real world with. Why they were there, he didn't know, but he decided he didn't care when Rangiku made a spectacle after she decided she wanted to braid her captain's hair.

**-o0o-**

"Aiko, we're going to erase your memory." The man, Kisuke, said as easily as if he had been talking about the weather.

This didn't help my confused state. "What?" I watched him pull a small device from his pocket. It looked like a lighter.

"Just your memories from this afternoon." He said in a voice that was probably meant to sound reassuring.

It didn't. He held the lighter up towards my face. "No thanks, I don't smoke," I said quickly. He laughed again. He seemed to like laughing at my discomfort.

"This is to erase your memories."

_Oh joy. This guy is completely bat shit._

"Ready?"

"Wait!" I said, throwing my hands over my ears as if I could keep my memories from leaking out. "Just two questions!"

He drew back. "Go ahead. You're not going to remember anything though."

"Whatever." I flapped a hand to dismiss the statement. "Are you sure this isn't a brothel?"

"No. I told you already. This is my house, attached to my store. A sweet shop, not a prostitute shop."

I still didn't believe him. "Alright one more. Is Bak– Renji gay?" The man laughed again, much harder this time.

"I don't know. I'll let you figure that one out."

He shoved the lighter back into my face and flicked it open, suddenly filling my vision with a very white light.

**-o0o-**

"The _fuck_?!? My corneas! You burnt my corneas! You son of a bitch!"

The room went quiet and everyone stared in the direction the voice had come from. There was a loud stomping sound, like a stampede, and Aiko came thundering into the room, rubbing her eyes. There was silence. Then Urahara poked his head in from the hallway, looking amused.

"Guess the memory modifier didn't work."

**-o0o-**

I opened my eyes, which still hurt, mind you, to see the room I had wandered into. Staring back at me was my roommate and all of his friends I had met the other day. I blinked rapidly, trying to get the sting out of my eyes.

"Hi." I said eying Titties, whose hand hovered over the hobbit's head. No one said anything. "So, what's going on?" I spotted Ginger. He looked pissed. "What crawled up your butt and died?" I pointed at him.

"Ask your boyfriend." He nodded in Renji's direction. "He's the one who was being all overprotective."

I looked at him. "Aw, were you worried?" I cooed. He glared and turned pointedly away. "Aw, that's so cute, Renji!" I was being mean, and I knew it. But it was worth it, watching his ears turn red from behind.

Suddenly he turned around, with what was probably supposed to be a triumphant expression on his face.

To me it looked more creepy than anything else. "What?"

"You just called me Renji."

Oh, damn. I so did.

"No I didn't." I could feel my headache returning.

"Don't be retarded, you did. And I have witnesses." He gestured around.

I looked around at the heads that were nodding that yes, I had just called him the correct name. "I don't use nick names anymore." I blurted. Crap.

Renji raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? Who's this?" He pointed towards the boobless girl.

Double crap.

"Karen?"

"No. Rukia."

"That's really close!" I whined.

The man-woman and Vin Diesel, I mean, the bald guy were laughing. I wanted to poke them in the eyes. Instead I settled on a change of subject. "So," I plopped down at the table between _Rukia_ and Renji. "Can anyone explain to me what that monster was?"

**-o0o-**

"… thirteen of them in all…"

Bored.

"… the Fourth specializes in healing…"

So bored.

"… Aizen and two others…"

So freaking bored.

"…help Ichigo protect— "

"Gah! Shut _up_!" I slammed my head onto the table we were sitting around. "I don't care about your stupid stories." I grumbled into the wooden surface. There was a stunned silence. I looked up at the faces around me. Some look offended and all looked surprised. Ginger – excuse me, Ichigo – looked angry… again.

"Hey, you're the one who asked!"

"I didn't ask for the whole story."

Ichigo snorted.

"I didn't! Did you hear me say 'hey, I wanna be bored shitless, let's hear a freakin' novel?'" I turned to Bakuha on my right. "'Just give me the cliff notes.' Was that too much to ask? It took you nearly an hour to explain that 1. I'm not dead, 2. you're not human, and 3. your life is spent swinging around swords and killing monsters like the one I saw. Seriously, how hard is it?"

"Sheesh! Calm down. You're being a total bitch."

"Shove it, Vin Diesel." I glared at his shiny head. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not really having the best day. First, I nearly chomp my own tooth off, then Bakuha practically poisons me with his roofies," my voice sped up as I started talking louder and louder, "then Ginger here tries to get fresh with me! Oh, and then I wake up here, which is very confusing. Does anyone have a Tylenol?"

Blank looks.

"No, seriously. My head is killing me."

**-o0o-**

"Psst, Renji." Renji looked around. He spotted Urahara at the doorway motioning for him to come over. He got up and left the table where Aiko and Matsumoto were chatting. The rest of the group had already left.

"What?" He whispered, mimicking the shop owner's secretive tone.

"I don't want to ruin the fun, but I have to be honest. Aiko can't be allowed to know all of this. The only reason she hasn't had her memory wiped yet is because the portable device didn't work on her."

"Why?"

"Some people aren't affected by it, I don't know why. I have a non-portable device that will probably work better. It needs a little tuning up, so I'll need a couple days. I need you to bring her back here on Saturday. Can you do that?"

Renji looked at Aiko, who was comparing drunk stories with Matsumoto. "Sure. I'll bring her back and we can erase her memories on Saturday."

**-o **_**Deleted Scene **_**o-**

I laughed. Rangiku was pretty darn funny, I had to hand it to her. She also seemed to like sake as much as I like shitty beer, so, I supposed, we were sort of destined to be friends. Nothing like a relationship based on booze…

I twisted around in my seat to see where Renji had gone. "OW!"

"What?" Rangiku asked, alarmed.

I put my hand on my ass. Hadn't I been hurt enough today? I found the source of the pain and held it up.

I had sat… on a thumbtack?

Rangiku and I stared. Then she swiped it out of my hand.

"OH MY GOD! RENJI!" She shouted, much louder than was necessary, considering he was talking to Kisuke only a few feet away.

"What?" Both men jumped.

"Loooooook!" She held up the thing. I saw it was not a thumbtack at all, but rather a little tiny–

"Aiko has a zanpakuto!"

* * *

Tum: You know the drill. Leave a review so Weenie can pee her pants in excitement.

Me: Wait! Here's a poll: What's the best way for an anime to waste time so it doesn't catch up to the manga: filler or cannon fights drawn out? It's on my homepage now!


	8. Fools Rush In

Tum: Last chapter was shitty. This one better be better.

Me: Wow, spare us your enthusiasm. And yeah it was. But you don't have to point it out! I'll apologize for that now. It was bad. Anyone spot the mega retarded typo? I don't even remember writing it. Maybe I was high.

Tum: Unlikely.

Me: Anyways, much to say this chapter, but prepare for a buttload in the next. Maybe.

Oh, wanna hear the best testing conversation ever? It's between me and my BFFFFF (best fucking french fried friend forever) Oddity.

_Unfunny: I think god was more pissed at Eve than Adam. You'll notice guys don't have periods._

_Oddity__: My dad sure as hell does. Little bitch. _a

Unfunny: Shouldn't he have hit menopause?

Oddity: He's only 29.

Unfunny: He was in and out of the Navy, married and having a kid by age 11?

Oddity: He hit puberty early.

Unfunny: So it follows that he should hit menopause early.

Oddity: No. He's half unicorn, so his life span is longer.

Unfunny: Bullshit. The unicorn diet of magic and love has been wiped out by Republicans and highly intelligent mercenaries.

Oddity: Yes. All except for my father. The rest of his clan was killed of by his brother.

Unfunny: ... I just got this really strange feeling that I hate your dad.

Disclaimer: I'm awesome. My writing… gets by. Further proof that I do not own Bleach.

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Fools Rush In…**

_T minus four days 'til memory loss_

We got back to the apartment -- our apartment-- at around 11. At that point I was both tired and hungry, and I was grumbling nearly as much as my stomach.

Renji helped me back into my body. And by helped, I mean sat down next to my body, punched the poor thing in the gut, caught the little pill that flew out it's mouth, and instructed my to lay on top of it in the same position.

Being absorbed back into my body was one of the strangest feelings I had ever experienced; like emerging from water after holding your breath for a very long time. If that surprised me, it was nothing compared to what happened when I sat up.

He kissed me. He put a hand on the ground on one side of my crossed legs, leaned forward and kissed me; simple and innocent, like a five-year-old. It was unexpected and completely adorable.

_I_ felt like a five-year-old. I wanted to laugh and blush and run off to tell all my pig-tailed friends that I'd been _kissed_. By a _boy_!

"Are you giggling?"

Oops.

"When you say it like that it sounds so pansy-ish."

He looked at me for a moment. "Well it sort of was."

I shook my head. "You need to learn to stop when you're ahead." I pushed myself up and headed for the kitchen. Yep, still hungry.

He got up to and followed me with a cheeky grin. He reached for my hand. "Likewise, Aiko," he wrapped his fingers around mine. "Likewise."

**-o0o-**

_T minus three days 'til memory loss_

"So... just pretend you're not a bunch of bottom feeders for a moment and at least _try_ to summon up a semi-intelligent thought or two."

And the award for the most supportive pseudo-professor goes to... AIKO!

OMG!!! I'd like to thank God for not smiting me, my mom for birthing me, oh, and Rambo for teaching me how to set up a killing trap with just a fern and a tree branch...

I sucked in a breath, looking at my lethargic class. "Alright, can anyone tell my why homosexual pornography was first eliminated in the Western world?"

A beefy blond kid stuck his large hand in the air. "Was it the Cultural Revolution?"

Shoot me.

"No," I ground out. "We're talking about fifteenth century Europe, Murukami, not twentieth century China." He slumped back into his chair. "Anyone else got any bright ideas? Yes, Ikeda?" I pointed to a dark haired boy in the front row, praying that whatever disease had eaten the brains of his classmates had not affected him.

No such luck.

"Your boobs?"

... These people were truly idiots.

"My boobs," I deadpanned. "Yes, Ikeda, my magical time-traveling boobs went back to the end of the Renaissance. Such was their beauty, that all who looked upon them were moved to tears. Men realized that other men had nothing to offer in comparison. Women jumped on the bandwagon too and immediately stopped doing each other. Yes, that is exactly what happened."

"Really? 'Cause I was only joking."

"Of course not you worthless moron!" I was loosing my temper very quickly. "It was the Church. The mother fucking Catholic Church you cretin!" I wasn't entirely sure it was okay to use "mother fucking" in reference to the Church, but I was too pissed to care. "And don't stare at my boobs!"

"He is." He pointed down the row.

Oh good logic.

"Renji's allowed to-- Renji?" I stared. "What are you doing here?"

He just grinned. "Wanted to see what you taught. I can't believe the porn was actually for your class. I thought you were lying."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How did you get here? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Like, I don't know, school?

"I skipped."

How much cooler would his response be if it had been to the first question?

I had a brief mental image of Renji literally skipping. It was enough to make me considerably more cheerful.

"Alright. Class, this is Abarai. He'll be joining us for the day. Now, did anyone read the passage about the conflict between Giulio Romano and Pope Clement VII?"

**-o0o-**

"That was a good class." I turned around from packing my bag to see Renji standing behind me in the otherwise empty. I fastened the bag.

"I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not."

"Now why would I want to make fun of you?" He asked mockingly.

"You're an asshole," I grumbled, lifting the bag's strap onto my shoulder. He reached forward to help me. I grabbed his hand. "I don't need your damn chivalry, Bakuha." Sadly, I was only half joking.

I pulled on his hand, dragging him closer until we were nearly nose to nose. I slid my hand up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. It was rather obvious what I wanted. We sat like that for a moment. "Well?"

He looked slightly taken aback. "Well what?"

"Are you going to kiss me?"

He rolled his eyes. "You are the laziest person I know."

"Thank you," I beamed.

He looked half annoyed, half flustered. "It wasn't a compliment!" He leaned forward until our lips were touching.

And then it wasn't just our lips.

And then it wasn't just our hands. It was our tongues, our faces, our bodies, our hips. It wasn't until I heard the door creak open that I realized I was sitting on the edge of my desk, Renji between my legs.

"Woohoo! Go Abarai!"

I peered over Renji's shoulder with the strongest glare I could muster. "Hookin' up with the teach," he said slowly, with an approving nod. "Nice."

"Hamada, I will _kill_ you!"

**-o0o-**

_T minus two days 'til memory loss_

What is he doing here?

It had been bothering me all class. All I could do the entire time was stare at his ridiculous red hair and wonder why the hell he was here _again_.

"Oh, and one more thing before you go guys; I'm having surgery tomorrow and no it's none of your business what kind. The only reason I'm telling you is because their trying a new anesthetic on me that might cause memory loss. Up to a couple days even. So I might come back and not remember anything about these last two classes. Uh... just so you know," I trailed off, ignoring my class' blank looks and staring at Renji as he raised a tattooed brow at me. "That's it. See you next week."

I marched over to him as the class bustled around, collecting their books that they probably didn't even know how to read. Before I could ask what he was doing here, he spoke, "Surgery?" he asked in a skeptical voice.

"I thought it was a good excuse." He said nothing. "What? They're going to wonder why I won't remember anything." I ignored a slight pang at the reality of the last four words. Not in connection to the class, but to... other things.

"I don't think they have the brain power to even notice." Renji pointed out, watching a pair of guys, one of them Hamada, talking loudly and stupidly. Hamada pointed to Renji, said something, and high five-ed his friend.

I frowned. "You're probably right."

"That one asked me if you were good in bed," Renji said suddenly, gesturing towards Hamada.

I snorted. "Typical. But it does surprise me that he didn't ask something more sexist or crude. Like whether I sh--"

Renji's hand came down on my mouth. "Please don't. Just try thinking before you talk for once." I scanned his harassed looking face as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Let's have a party!" He looked at me in disbelief. "No, I'm serious. I was thinking about it, we should have a party with all of your friends from school. It could be like, a going away party! Only for my memory!"

"That makes it sound more serious. Like you're loosing all your memories."

"That would make me a vegetable or something."

"No it wou--"

"Renji," I grabbed his hands and looked deep into his eyes. "Promise me if I ever become a vegetable, that you'll pull the plug?"

A brow twitched. "What did I say about thinking before you talked!?"

"Sooooo… party?"

_

* * *

_

Me: Whoa. Mass amounts of italics. Wow. Just re-read that. Made me depressed. So much work and so little reward. Way short. Oh well.

Here's the thing. I love you all, but you kind of suck at polls. So thanks to the literally two people who voted on my age poll. You're wrong, though. I'm neither 15 nor 21. I am… hey Tum, get a drum roll please.

Tum: Drum roll

Me: . Just saying it doesn't count.

Tum: (beleaguered sigh) (drum roll)

Me: 17! As for the hint I gave, if it seems that I was too young to be reading Harry Potter when I was six, chew on this: I've always read stuff to old for me. I think the prime example is reading the Divine Comedy for fun in eighth grade.

Tum: Nerd.

Me: Yeah, um, fuck you.

Tum: Hey kiddos, review!

P.S. Bakuha means, predictably, explosion. I'll go put that in the chapter it's actually needed in now…

P.P.S The story of Giulio Romano is actually pretty funny. If I recall correctly, he got in some sort of tiff with the Pope and ended up painting pornographic frescos in the Vatican as revenge, I'm not sure how true this story is, but it's funny, so let's pretend it's completely factual, kay?


	9. Or So We've Been Told

Me: Alright, here's the deal. One more chapter and then… the end of Roomies. Which sucks, yeah, but that's the way life goes.

Tum: Yeah, you weren't all ' go with the flow' a little bit ago when you were trying to get this chapter from your iPod to the computer.

Me: Yeah? Well six plus hours of technology turning to shit will do that to you. I only have so much Zen, okay? So shut up.

for you lot (points at screen) you better –

(Dad walks in)

Dad: Why are you pointing at the screen?

Me: Emphasis, father. Emphasis.

Dad: (blinks)(leaves)

Me: Anyways, you better enjoy this chapter. A lot of sweat (couldn't find my deodorant this morning,) tears (what? I'm tired,) and blood (okay, not really) went into this.

Tum: Are you still talking?

Me: Not done yet. I have a little story for everyone…

Tum: Oh, wonderful.

Me: I was camping last weekend. After an arduous hike, ascending 2000 feet in an hour is no joke, I stood atop the continental divide. But did I enjoy the wonderful view? Did I look down into the valley I had started in and relish in my accomplishment? No. All I could think was, "God, my nipples are cold."

Tum: o.0

Disclaimer: I tend to share way too much. I tend to write long authors notes about useless nonsense. I do not tend to own Bleach.

* * *

**Chapter 9 - ... Or So We've Been Told...**

_T minus 1 day 'til memory loss _

"Oh, this is so illegal. I'm going to get arrested," I whined to Renji, shifting several bottles of liquor in my arms.

"Chill out. We're not really underage, we just look young."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. Never heard that one before." I pushed the cargo onto the counter and motioned for Renji to do the same with his. The cashier raised an eyebrow and glanced at a clock on the wall behind him. "What?" I snapped a little defensive.

He said nothing, but he didn't need to. It was written all over his fat raised eyebrow. _It's six thirty, lady. In the morning. _

Screw buying alcohol for minors, judging me because I buy it before the sun rises should be illegal. It's just rude.

And hey, they were the ones who were open...

"Heh. That's what she said."

"What?"

Crap. I really needed to stop saying things out loud. I looked at the little price display on the register and watched as any hopes of me being able to afford food were obliterated more and more with each _beep_.

"You guys better be paying me back," I grumbled, watching the cashier scan bottle after bottle.

There was a strange splat-like sound from the front of the store. All three of us looked to see the source; it was Rangiku. She was squished up against the front window. She began hammering and shouting through the glass.

"Don't forget the sakeeeee~!"

Now this scene, under normal circumstances, would only have been vaguely embarrassing. What made the difference? Her outfit. My precious little Rangiku was wearing her uniform. Her _high school_ uniform.

"Oh, lord."

"What the--"

"Shit, Matsumoto!"

I covered Renji's mouth. "We don't know that person!" I said, much too loud.

Mr. Cashier narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I need to see your ID."

I dug through my pocket sheepishly and handed him the card. He eyed it carefully. "See? Perfectly legit," I told him.

He frowned, and held it back out to me. I stuffed it back into my jeans, wincing at the muffled "sakeee" from the front. Was she drunk?

"That'll be 24,553 yen."

"Waaah? That's so much money!" I cried woefully. "Couldn't you give me a discount or something?" I smiled at the hopefully at the man.

"...No."

"If I show you my boobs?"

"No."

"Not fair!" I was practically crying as I surrendered my sole credit card to him. No way I had that kind of cash on me.

"Fine." I sniffed angrily after her wrestled it from my hands. "But what if I showed you her boobs?" I nodded towards Rangiku, hoping to sway him with her more impressive breasts.

He considered it for a moment. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal," he said, not taking his eyes off her chest.

"Illegal?" I spat.

"Yeah," he returned his attention to my credit card. "Pimping out underage girls is illegal."

**-o0o-**

"Illegal, my ass," Aiko snorted as she stuffed the plastic card back into her pocket.

"I don't know much about the real world, but I'm pretty sure it is illegal." Renji couldn't keep a grin from sneaking onto his face.

"Whatever. He probably has backne or something. And stop looking so entertained, this isn't funny."

"It's pretty funny." Renji pushed open the liquor store's front door. They were immediately accosted by an excited Matsumoto.

"Did you get the sake?" She bounced between the pair, trying to peer into the brown paper bags each held.

"Yes, Rangiku. I got your fucking sake." Aiko said impatiently. She glanced back into the store at the stating clerk. "Could you please be less obvious?"

The shinigami stepped back. "Sorry!" she said cheerfully and glanced at her soul pager. "Oh! We're gonna be late for school!" She strolled quickly away.

"Wait!" Aiko shoved her bag at Renji and took off after her. Renji followed as quickly as he could without dropping any of the precious cargo.

By the time he caught up to them, they had been joined by the rest of the shinigami, as well as Ichigo, Chad, Orihime, and surprisingly even the Ishida kid. It was a strange group indeed.

"...better pay me back!" Aiko was griping again.

"Don't worry about it!" Matsumoto waved it off. "I'll put it in the budget for this mission!" she chirped, smiling widely.

Hitsugaya looked angry. "You'll do no such thing."

"But, Taichou--!"

"Matsumoto." The captain growled her name in warning and she seemed to deflate.

"Fine." Her bottom lip protruded forward in a pout. "You're so mean, Taichou."

"Look, I don't care whose money it is," Aiko interjected. "As long as I have it before rent's due, 'kay?"

Such subtlety and class.

"Renji, where are you going?" He looked around to see his roommate stopped several feet behind the group. "Home's this way."

"I was going to school..." He knew it was no use before he even finished the sentence.

"No. Nuh uh. Not today, Bakuha. Today you're staying home with me. Besides, you've got the booze."

Matsumoto perked up. "Ooh! Be sure to do lots of naughty things!"

He ignored her. He stared at Aiko for a moment, then gave a defeated sigh. "I don't know if I can handle a whole day of you." But he trudged in her direction none-the-less.

Aiko frowned and Matsumoto spoke up yet again. "Aw. Renji, you hurt her feelings!"

He twitched. "That woman doesn't have feelings."

**-o0o-**

_T minus 23 hours 'til memory loss _

"What the hell is that?"

I turned my head to see Renji emerging from the bathroom, crossing the bedroom and coming to a stop next to me in the tiny family room.

"My old DJ machine!" I said proudly. He scanned over the two CD slots, the various buttons, knobs and switches, and finally onto the cheap little fold-up table it was placed on.

"I meant the music."

"Oh. It's Bob Dylan. You like?"

"It's... good?" he practically asked.

I rolled my eyes and punched him in the stomach.

"Ow! The hell was that for?!?" he shouted.

"Grow some balls you moron!" I shouted just as loudly. "Tell me what you really think."

"I think it sounds like a banshee is trying to sing. Happy?" he huffed angrily.

"Hm," I pondered it for a moment. "I'd have to agree with you there." I said thoughtfully. "Great songwriter, awful singer." A tinge of melancholy colored my tone with the last few words. "Ah well. I better find some music you teenie boppers would like." I moved away from the table to inspect a small stack of CDs.

"What are you wearing?"

"Really?" I looked up to meet his eyes, only to find him looking elsewhere. "Really, Renji? This bothers you? I thought we were past the whole 'not-wearing-pants-around-each-other-is-awkward' stage?"

"That's a stage?"

"Most certainly." I gave a small nod, returning to me perusal. "Though I really think it should be done much earlier in a relationship than most."

"You would," he muttered. And then louder, "That's not what I meant though. I was seriously asking what you're wearing. What is that picture on your…" he looked uncomfortable. "crotch?"

"Oh," I said, slightly disappointed. "You don't like Transformers?"

**-o0o-**

_T minus 16 hours 'til memory loss _

"Renji! Get your ass up! They'll be here in less than twenty minutes." I poked him for good measure.

"Wha? So?" He looked confused, bless his retarded soul.

"So? So we don't have any decorations up! They're going to wonder what we did all day!" The truth is that Renji had spent the better part of the day snoozing on the couch.

I, on the other hand, had pulled out my box of party decorations. I went through them, trying to figure out which ones we would use. In the end decided on four pink lawn flamingos, a pin-the-cash-on-the-male-stripper poster, a five foot tall inflatable palm tree and a banner that read "Congratulations! Twins!" And of course, streamers.

It was all very cohesive.

"Here," I thrust the palm tree at Renji. "Blow this up." He stared at it for a moment and then complied.

I pushed a step ladder to one side of the room and began taping a red streamer to the ceiling there. It was quiet except for the sound of the slowly inflating palm tree. For the first time in my life, I questioned whether I should say something. This, after all, could very well be one of our last sober moments together before… tomorrow.

I should say something.

I inhaled. Something cute or clever. Something important. Something. Anything.

"Eyes off my ass, Renji."

**-o0o-**

Renji's heart beat heavy and fast as he trailed his hand down her back, kissing her harder.

Though she gave no sign of dissent, he still felt slightly defensive.

But, really what had she expected to do. Parading around in her underwear was one thing. He could handle that. But then she had said _that_.

It had been so stupid. So annoying and conceited. So completely _Aiko_.

He just couldn't help himself.

The brilliantly colored front door suddenly flew open with a loud 'smack.'

"PARTY~!" Matsumoto called gleefully. Then she spotted the pair and an impish grin climbed its way onto her face. "Uh oh!" Renji looked behind her at the various other faces crowded in the doorway. He looked back at Aiko. Her shocked, wide eyed expression was replaced by an equally deviant smile.

Great.

"I told you," Matsumoto shook a berating finger at him. "To do filthy things ibefore/i the party."

"Actually, no." Aiko returned, cheekily. "You didn't give us a time frame."

Ikkaku snickered from his spot in the doorway.

Renji detached himself from her sourly. She started to bounce away, saying, "I'll get the sake!"

"No," He placed a hand on her head. "I'll get it." She looked up at him questioningly. "You," he turned her head so it faced the bedroom. "Go put some pants on." She looked slightly rebellious. "Now," he said forcefully and released her. She skipped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

The group slowly gathered in the living area. Yumichika looked disdainfully around at the lone streamer and the sad, half inflated palm tree. "These are awful decorations."

* * *

Me: So, I tried to make the price on the sake as accurate as possible. Did a bit of research, and in the end it came out to about 260 American dollars.

Tum: I believe that is the only thing you've ever written in an author's note that is actually important.

Me: Oh, Tum. Foolish Tum. Everything I say is important. Like this: Aiko buys her skivvies in the little boy's section of Target.


	10. But We Don't Care

Me: So it has come to an end. Excuse me for a moment. (walks off)

Tum: While she's doing that, I suppose it's time to announce the next –

Me: (wailing in distance) Why?!?

Tum: - story. It's the Bleach one! It will go by the title of The Latest Toughs and –

Me: … too soon!

Tum: - and will be available for your viewing pleasure Monday, August 31. From then, she will add a new chapter every five days.

Me: (comes back in with puffy face and red eyes) The reason I'm waiting two weeks is because I learned from this *sniffle* story that I really need to get ahead before I start posting. (blows nose) So without further ado –

Tum: Wait! Something else!

Me: Hm? Oh, yeah. Addressing the whole lemon thing. I knew this would come up sooner or later. Looks like my story is all grown up. But, take note, I will never write a lemon. I have two explanations, both true. (Though the first takes precedence) Now, if you don't read lemons please proceed to #1. If you do, please proceed to #2.

1. I don't read lemons. Never have, never will. To me they are gross, creepy, and a violation of fictional privacy. For that reason, I skip over lemons and avoid stories with them, when possible. I simply refuse to write smut.

2. Hello, majority. Here's the thing. Even if I felt comfortable writing a lemon, which those of you who cheated and read #1 know I don't, I still wouldn't write one. Because it would be bad. It would suck (no pun intended… okay, maybe a little.) And you wouldn't want the story ruined would you?

Me: Alright, on with it then!

Disclaimer: "Seeking: Some one to own Bleach. Must be Japanese, male, artistic, and not crazy. Apply within." Now, then. Are you still confused about who owns it? Let's simplify. I don't.

* * *

**Chapter 10 - …But We Don't Care  
**

[Note]: With sake, you tend to stay drunk for only a very short time compared to other alcohol. Keep that in mind as you read so I don't seem like an idiot.

_T minus nine hours until memory loss_

Renji glanced at the clock overhanging the TV. It was only just past eleven o'clock. He barely resisted the urge to groan, instead settling on slumping back further on to the couch.

This party was stupid. The whole idea was stupid. He didn't _want_ all these stupid people here. They were ruining his last night with Aiko. And the idiots probably wouldn't even leave for hours.

"Are you okay, Renji?"

Orihime daintily sat herself on the couch between him and a bored-looking Ichigo. Renji met her concerned eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just-- Hey, why are you here?" It had just occurred to him how absurd it was for the girl to be at the party. She was far too innocent to be seeing the things that happened when several shinigami plus Aiko got drunk off their asses.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Was I not invited?" She immediately jumped up, waving her hands apologetically, and backing away from the couch. "Should I have brought something? Oh I knew I should have brought some food!" She continued to move backwards, talking very quickly, until her foot landed on an empty sake bottle. She hit the ground with a painful sounding thud. "Ow!"

Ichigo was over to her in a flash, helping the girl up while glaring at Renji.

"What?" Renji asked snappishly. He really wasn't in the mood. "It wasn't my fault. She shouldn't be here." Orihime opened her mouth, probably to apologize again, but Renji cut her off. "Don't blame me. iYou/i should keep a better eye on your girlfriend."

Ichigo reddened, but, to his credit, didn't stutter. "Like you can talk!" He pointed over Renji's shoulder.

"Chug, chug, chug!" A group of inebriated shingami stood chanting around Aiko and Ikkaku who seemed to be having a competition and were indeed chugging... cocktail weenies?

"That's disgusting."

Renji turned away from the scene, addressing Ichigo. "Take her," he nodded towards Orihime, "home. She doesn't need to see this."

"Fine." Ichigo grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the door.

"Oh! Bye, Renji!" she called, waving cheerfully.

"Bye," he returned half-heartedly, hoping Ichigo wouldn't do anything retarded like leaving her to walk herself home in the dark.

A cheer went up behind him. He turned to find Aiko dancing lopsidedly in celebration while Matsumoto and Yumichika clapped her on the back. Ikkaku, passed out facedown in a pile of sausages, seemed completely forgotten.

"Who's next?" Aiko roared.

"No. No more. I'm cutting you off." Renji made his way over quickly to prevent her from stumbling into a clearly annoyed Hitsugaya. "No more cocktail weenies and no more alcohol."

"Are you kidding? That's the most fun I can have without having to cuddle afterwards."

Snarky even when drunk. It would be endearing... if it wasn't so annoying.

"Dance with me~!" She pulled him forcefully against herself. She swayed slowly on the spot as if soft jazz was playing and not the ridiculous electronic stuff she had earlier insisted was "teenie bopper approved."

Renji stood rather stiffly, refusing to move with her. "Do I have a choice?"

"Nope!" She snuggled into his chest. Less than an hour ago, she had been kicking his ankles because he drank one of her beers. Now she was positively cuddly. Drunk Aiko was nearly as confusing as sober Aiko.

"Fine." He gave a defeated sigh, rested his head atop hers, and gave into her stupid dancing.

**-o0o-**

_T minus 7 hours until memory loss_

"Renji?"

"Hm?"

"Why are we slow dancing to techno?

There was a slight pause. When he spoke I thought I heard a smile in his voice. "I've learned that when you're drunk it's easier just to let you do what you want."

"I wanted to dance?"

"Yep."

"Oh." I wrinkled my nose a little bit. "I hate dancing." I felt him shake slightly from laughter. Or perhaps he was crying; I couldn't see his face. But that was improbable. And lame.

"How long have we been standing here?" I felt his neck crane to see the clock.

"Almost two hours."

"Wow."

"I think you were asleep for most of it."

I still didn't raise my head. "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I had entertainment. Matsumoto became convinced at one point that she had to kiss everyone. You missed Yumichika running and screaming like a girl."

"Damn." Only then did I notice the lack of voices. "Where is everyone?"

"Passed out or gone."

"Hm. Lame party. Who's snoring?"

"That would be Matsumoto."

"Oh."

We sank slowly back into our comfortable silence, neither of us moving from our position.

"Renji?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I drooled on your shirt.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into my head. I finally pulled back enough to look at him, bringing a seductive look to my face. "We should--"

I was cut off when he leapt backwards. Startled I nearly fell. "The hell was that?!?"

He looked at me, a sheepish expression crawling onto his face. "Sorry. I... I thought you were going to throw up."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You looked really sick!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Overlooking the fact that such a minor thing as barf would make you abandon me, I was _going_ to say we should have sex."

It was his turn to carry a look of disbelief.

And then he was laughing.

And then I was laughing too.

And we were standing in my trashed living room, surrounded by blacked out shinigami, laughing.

Just laughing.

He caught his breath and his eyes met mine. "Overlooking the fact that you are the worst seductress in the world... I agree."

**-o0o-**

Urahara looked up at the starry sky and yawned. He had only just finished the machine, but he still wasn't sure. He'd have to test it on someone...

At that moment, a suited salary man turned a corner. He stumbled slightly, having spent too long at the bar. Perfect.

Urahara bounded forward to intercept the man as he passed the shop. "Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but notice the late hour. Too late, in fact, to show up at home without the proper apology to the missus. Don't you think?"

The man's eyes focused in and out as he looked at the shop keeper's face. "Issuppose," the man slurred.

"Perfect! Well, come with me, and I might just be able to sell you some very high quality roses!" He ushered the man through the shop and down a hallway into the room where he had set up the device.

Now he just needed a memory to erase. Preferably something both specific and significant.

"Yoruichi! I need to borrow your breasts!"

**-o0o-**

Hands moved quickly as the bedroom door slammed shut behind us. Little puffs of breath met each other in midair. I reached for his shirt, pulling each of the buttons out of their holes.

Wait, buttons?

I froze. "Are you wearing your uniform?"

"Um… what?" His voice quavered slightly.

"You're wearing your school uniform."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I was planning on going, remember?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "I can't do this."

"What?"

"Sex! I can't have sex with someone in a high school uniform! I feel like a pedophile!"

"Well I won't be wear—"

"Here." I grabbed a pair of his jeans and a tee shirt off the floor and shoved it into his chest. "Change into this, I'll find my shirt and we can start over."

He eyed the clothing in his hands. "This is ridiculous. I'm not putting on a whole new outfit just because—"

"Yes you are," I said as forcefully as a could.

"No I'm not! This is stupid—" His voice grew louder with each word.

"Yes you are! Now put it on or I'll make you!"

"I'm not going to –!"

"Yes, you are! Because I _fucking said so!_"

… He never did get it on.

**-o0o-**

_T minus 45 minutes 'til memory loss_

I woke up to the sound of a power drill roaring from the floor above.

Brilliant.

I lay perfectly still, knowing that as soon as the snoring Renji beside me woke up, the world would start moving again and I'd have to face reality.

Like how I fucked up our relationship.

I stared at my walrus nightlight and silently berated myself. What had I been thinking? Perhaps some masochistic subconscious desire had decided that our relationship wasn't complicated enough already. I searched for an excuse. Alcohol? No. None of my memories were clouded with booze. iI/i had made the decision.

What killed me wasn't the fact that I wouldn't remember this time tomorrow. What killed me was the fact that Renji would have to remember alone. This was not a revelation. I had known it all along. I had known it last night. And I had known it even as I pulled him to my bed. And yet, I had done it anyways.

I wanted to cry. I was stupid, an idiot. And so… so…

Selfish.

**-o0o-**

_T minus ten minutes 'til memory loss_

Renji opened his eyes slowly, not really wanting to be awake. His eyes fell on the alarm clock next to Aiko's bed.

"Shit!" He tried to spring up from the bed, but only managed to get tangled in the sheets and fall heavily onto the floor.

"Smooth," Aiko commented, poking her head over the side of the bed to see him struggling to free himself from the cotton cocoon.

He ignored her and climbed onto his feet, reaching for random clothes. "Get dressed. We should have left five minutes ago."

She joined him in the search for clothing as he hastily pulled a shirt over his head. "Hurry," he said impatiently, watching her button her pants.

"Alright let's go." He grabbed her hand and rushed for the door. She avoided his eyes as they sped past an unamused Hitsugaya trying to rouse his vice-captain. For a moment he thought he saw a single tear dangling from her eyelashes, but then he looked again and it was gone.

**-o0o-**

_T minus 75 seconds 'til memory loss_

"You're late!" The shop owner's voice sing-songed from another room as we stopped, panting, just inside the store. He stopped upon entering the main area where we stood and surveyed us. His eyes roamed from the red spot on Renji's face where he had fallen, to my frizzy disaster hair, and finally to my shirt. Which I realized, much too late, was definitely not my own.

A horrible knowing grin split his face. "Oh, I see!"

Renji shifted uncomfortably and guilt hit me again full force. I gave his hand one last squeeze and then dropped it. "Renji, you stay here. Let's get this over with."

_T minus 30 seconds 'til memory loss _

"This time I know it will work. I tested it last night," Kisuke informed me as he lead me into a room at the end of the long hall we had traversed. If he was trying to be comforting, he was failing miserably.

I gawked at the giant contraption before me. It was nothing like the lighter from before. _That_ was going to be messing with my head?

"Don't worry, it's completely safe," he said as if he had read my mind.

_T minus 20 seconds_

"You stand here." He positioned me in front of the gargantuan machine and I did as I was told. I pulled nervously at the hem of Renji's shirt as Kisuke tinkered around behind the back of the machine. "I just need to set a few last things… voila!" He came back around, smiling, proud of his work.

_T minus ten seconds_

"Actually, you may want to sit down. You'll probably pass out."

Again, with the comforting.

"Here." He pulled up a chair and pushed me down on to it.

_Five seconds_

"Make sure you look at this spot right here."

_Four_

"It won't hurt, I promise."

_Three_

"Ready?"

_Two_

No! No I'm not ready. I want to go back!

_One_

**-o0o-**

Renji drummed his fingers on his knee. He sat cross legged on the floor, trying not to think. But it was impossible. Soon, Urahara would emerge from the back room, carrying and unconscious Aiko. And he would have to carry her back to their apartment, and when she woke up, he would have to pretend that nothing had happened between them.

He was very suddenly knocked over. He opened his eyes, surprised, expecting to find a wrecking ball. Instead, he saw Aiko, practically on top of him and hugging his torso as if she hadn't seen him in year. "What- what the hell?"

At the sound of a chuckle, he looked up to see Urahara and his paper fan standing in the doorway. When the man offered no explanation, Renji spoke from his place on the floor, "Is this a side affect?"

The shop keeper shook his head. "It would seem that our dear Aiko, is immune to our memory erasing techniques."

Renji looked at Urahara in pure disbelief. "What?"

"Oh, it just happens in some people. Like wheat allergies, I suppose."

And it sank in. It hadn't worked. She was immune. She wasn't going to forget!

Renji hugged her back, but she suddenly pushed him away. She looked at him very seriously and spoke deliberately, "I want you to know that I don't do hugs. This whole hugging thing," she gestured at their position. "Ends after today."

"Fine." He couldn't keep from smiling when she gave an indignant yelp as he pulled her close again. "_After_ today."

**-o0o-**

"Ah, young love!" Urahara stood in front of his shop, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye as he watched Renji and Aiko's retreating figures.

"KISUKE!"

Oh dear. Yoruichi didn't sound happy.

"Yes?" He fluttered back inside.

"Why didn't you erase that girl's memory?" she demanded angrily.

"Oh I did all that I could! I guess it was just fate that—"

"Don't give me that crap! I took a look at the machine. You unplugged it didn't you? Tell me the truth!"

Though his face was obscured by his fan, Yoruichi could see the laughter dancing in his eyes. "I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

Me: Taadaa! That's the end! I really hoped you liked it! One last major thank you to EVERYONE who read/reviewed/et cetera.

Tum: (checks pocket watch) I believe it's time to reveal the theme song.

Me: (points) Holy shit! Where'd you get a pocket watch?!?

Tum: (stares)

Me: Oh, fine, have it your way. What were we saying? Oh yes! The theme song, and also the title of the oneshot booklet sequel type thing is Okay Lover by Blip Blip Bleep. I suggest you look it up, (and yes, listen to it) seeing as it's amazing. Even more amazing is how well it fit the story. I promise that everything was already planned into my story BEFORE I heard the song. Except the Bob Dylan part in chapter 9. I added that because of the song.

Tum: Pip pip! Time to go!

Me: Pip… pip? Tum, you're acting like a stereotypical jovial British man and it's confusing me. Are you listening? TUM!!

Tum: (lighting a pipe) Oh, I'm sorry. We're you saying something?

Me:I don't have time for this shit. Anyways, goodbye everyone and I hope to see you in my next fanfac!


End file.
